gone away with a broken heart,” Rafe said.
“And the joke may be on him?” Fiona eyed each of them. “You believe Darla’s marrying this other man as a cover for a relationship she may have had with Judah?”
“What we’re theorizing,” Jonas said, “is that he may have thought the condoms were the gag gift, not that they were useless.” Jonas sighed. “I, too, threw Creed’s gift in the trash. I didn’t want hot-pink condom sex with anyone I know.”
They all looked at him with raised brows.
“I threw mine away, too,” Rafe admitted. “I’m afraid of children. At least I think I am. Or maybe I’m afraid of getting married,” he said cheerfully. “When I watched Creed go down like a tranquilized bull, I said, ‘Rafe, you are not your twin.”’
“It’s possible Judah tossed them as well,” Fiona said. “And for all we know, Darla isn’t pregnant, although I wouldn’t bank on it at this point.” She wrapped up the strawberry pie and returned it to the fridge. “Rafe, run upstairs and look in Judah’s nightstand, since that’s where he stayed that night because of the wedding guest housing situation.”
“Not me,” Rafe said, “I never snoop.”
Fiona elevated a brow. “We can’t let him go all over several states rodeoing and maybe scattering his seed, so to speak. If he took the condoms with him, and if he honestly needs glasses so much that he can’t read a box—”
“Who reads the label on a box of condoms besides Sam?” Rafe said. “You just whip the foil packet out and—”
“Go,” Fiona said. “Your brother’s future may be at stake.”
“I’m not doing it,” Rafe said, and he meant it.
Fiona plucked three straws from a broom. “Draw,” she told the brothers. “Short straw plays detective.”
A moment later, Rafe held the short straw. “It’s not fair,” he grumbled. “I’m the existential one in the family. I believe in reading, and thinking deep thoughts, not nosing into places I don’t belong.” But he went up the stairs. In his heart Rafe knew that Judah and Darla belonged together. But they couldn’t just fall into each other’s arms and make it easy on everybody. “Leaving me with the difficult tasks,” he muttered, reluctantly opening his brother’s nightstand.
And there was the black box of joke condoms with the hot-pink smiley faces, peace signs and lip prints.
“Hurry up!” Fiona bellowed from the stairs. “You’re not panning for gold! The suspense is killing us.”
Rafe grunted. He opened the box.
There were nine left.
“Uh-oh,” he muttered, and went downstairs with his report.
“Three?” Fiona said, when Rafe revealed his findings. “Three have been … are missing?” She looked distressed. “I hope Judah hasn’t had more than one situation where such an item might be called for.”
They all looked at her, their faces questioning.
“One woman,” Fiona clarified, and they all said, “Oh, yeah, yeah, right.”
The brothers glanced at each other, worried.
Rafe shifted. “What do we do now?”
They all gazed expectantly at Fiona. This was the counsel they had come to hear.
She shrugged and put on her wrap. “Nothing you can do. No one can save a man if he decides to give up his ground to the enemy. Faint heart never won fair lady and all that. Good night, nephews,” she said. “Wish me luck at bingo tonight!”
And she tootled out the door.
The brothers looked after her.
“That was not helpful,” Sam said.
“I agree,” Rafe said. “I thought she’d give us the typical, in-depth Fiona strategy.”
“She’s right,” Jonas said. “And we should be taking notes to remember this unfortunate episode in our brother’s life.”
“We probably won’t,” Rafe said morosely, and sat down to finish his pie. “I heard once that men are slow learners.” And he wasn’t going to tell anyone that it was Judge Julie Jenkins, next-door ranch owner and Bode’s daughter, who had thrown that pearl of wisdom at his head.
DARLA LOOKED AT Jackie Callahan, co-owner of the Magic Wedding Dress Shop. “Pull harder,” she said. “I’m not letting out my dress. I just bought it.”
Jackie tugged at the fabric. “The satin just doesn’t want to give. And I don’t think it’s good for the baby… .”
Darla looked at herself in the triple mirror. “I’ve been eating a lot of strawberries. I crave them.”
“That shouldn’t cause so much weight gain,” Jackie said. “Not that you look like you’ve gained so very much.”
“On ice cream,” Darla said, aware that her friend was trying to be tactful. “Strawberries on top of vanilla ice cream.”
“Oh.” Jackie looked at her. “Maybe switch to frozen yogurt?”
“There’s only a week before the wedding. I think the waistline isn’t going backward on the measuring tape.” She looked at herself, turning around slowly, and then frowned. “Something’s not right.”
“I think the dress is beautiful on you.”
“Thank you,” Darla murmured. “I’m not sure what’s not quite right, but there’s definitely something.”
“Nerves?” Jackie said. “Brides get them. They want everything to be perfect. We’ve certainly seen our share of Nervous Nells in here.”
“I’m not nervous,” Darla said. What I am is not in love. And that’s what’s wrong. I’m not in love with the man I’m marrying. And he’s not in love with me.
“Do you want to try a different gown?” Jackie asked, and Darla shook her head.
“No. This one will do.” She went to change. The gown was not what was wrong. She could wear a paper bag, or a gown fit for a royal princess, and it wouldn’t matter.
“Well,” Jackie said as Darla came back out, “I think I know what the problem is.”
She looked at her, hoping her dear friend, business partner and maid of honor didn’t.
“You’re not wearing the magic wedding dress,” Jackie said. “You always said it was your dream gown.” She smiled at Darla. “It worked for me.”
Darla’s gaze slid to the magic wedding dress. It was true. Ever since Sabrina McKinley had brought the gown to her, saying that it brought true luck to the wearer, she had known it was the only gown for her. It was the most beautiful, magical dress she’d ever seen. Sparkly and iridescent, it made her catch her breath.
But she couldn’t wear it, not to marry someone she didn’t love with all her heart. She was fond of her fiancé. Dr. Sidney Tunstall was a perfect match on paper. Even he’d said that. He needed a wife for his career, and she … well, she needed not to think about the fact that somehow she’d gotten pregnant by Judah Callahan even though she knew he’d conscientiously used a condom every time they’d made love that incredible night.
He would never believe this was his baby.
“I don’t think I believe in magic,” Darla said.
Jackie looked at her. “Magic is what we sell.”
“I know,” Darla said, “but these days, I’m concentrating on the practical.” Practical, not romantic. No magic, just the bare business proposal. And one day, I’ll tell Judah the